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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711290">Lured By the Heart, Not By the Crown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/qjuiq/pseuds/qjuiq'>qjuiq</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Mob, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:00:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/qjuiq/pseuds/qjuiq</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Steve Rogers meet at a bar. Neither of you expected something to come out of it. </p><p>mob!AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh yes, the sweet, sweet <em> burn </em>of victory,” You gloat, your voice raspy from the alcohol. Elle’s head is slung on the edge of the bar as she tries to recover from the loss. You can’t help but laugh drunkenly at your friend, all of this being her idea in the first place. </p><p>Your Saturday nights had consisted of meal prepping for the week and scanning through your streaming service queues. You were in the middle of a Stephen King movie when your best friend had challenged you to a drinking contest. Elle was bored and the prospect of getting hammered was fairly attractive, a pleasant interruption to your routine. You were down. </p><p>“I forgot you were a heavy drinker, god damn it,” Elle groans as she sits up, wiping her sniffling nose with the back of her hand. “Ugh. We’re going to feel like absolute shit tomorrow, you know that?” She erupts into uncontrollable giggles, earning a chortle from you. </p><p>“You’re going to feel like shit, <em> I’m </em>still going to feel like a champ,” You laugh, patting her back a little too hard. “And I’m going to continue feeling like one! Hey, bartender, can I get some more of that good stuff?” Your voice is loud as you wave your empty glass, though your friend Peter was no rookie to your intoxicated ministrations. </p><p>“Coming right up,” He laughs, pouring you another shot of Grey Goose. Peter places it in front of you, knowing that sliding it over would have been a horrible idea at this point. After serving you, he checks on the patrons at the opposite end of the bar. A blonde nurses his drink alongside his wingman, patiently waiting for the company to arrive. </p><p>“How much longer do we gotta be here, Steve?” Bucky asks through gritted teeth. His impatience was evident though Steve remained quiet, waiting as he observed his surroundings. </p><p>“Be patient, Buck. This is an important package that Stark wanted to personally deliver, it’s worth waiting for.” He nods at Bucky, taking another sip from his scotch. Steve wasn't a huge fan of bars, but when the services were offered and money talked just enough you could find him there. Steve scanned the bar, making sure there were enough of his men evenly dispersed throughout for backup. Bucky huffs quietly to himself, unaware of the eyes drinking him in from down the bar.</p><p>“Oh my <em> god</em>, do you <em> see </em> that?” Elle slurs as she points past you.</p><p>“Elle, you can’t point, Ms. Bush taught us better than to point,” You smack her hand down but follow her direction, subtleness out the window. The two men earn an approving up-down from you and your friend, both of you giggling like children. “Wait, did we even come out to meet guys?” Laughing as you lean against the bar, you struggle to hold yourself upright. Seems the shots are <em> really </em> starting to kick in. </p><p>“No, but if there’s a male that’s beautiful enough to have my babies, why would I <em> not </em>talk to him?” Elle stands and straightens her dress, smoothing it out around her legs. Her hands run through her icy blonde hair, and for as long as you’ve known Elle you’ve always been impressed at her ability to sober up when there’s a hot guy in her midst. “Can’t have him think I’m trashed,” She winks at you, strutting over to the two men.</p><p>“That is an excellent point, my friend,” You raise your glass to her. Sure, Elle invited you out for some much-needed girl time, but you weren’t going to stop her from getting tail tonight. You knew she had it out for the brunette, especially since his thighs reminded you of tree trunks in that suit. Wait, why was someone wearing a suit to the bar? The thought is easily forgotten as you wave Peter over for another drink. </p><p>“Do you boys come here often?” Elle strides up to the gentlemen, and she’s glad she put effort into her attire for tonight. Her dress ended mid-thigh and the thin spaghetti straps were the only thing supporting her chest. Her eyelashes were batted directly at Bucky, Steve holding in a smirk. Bucky gave an appreciative smile as he stood up from his barstool, smoothing out his jacket. </p><p>“No, but now I have more reason to, doll,” Bucky smiles at her. Steve rolls his eyes, scanning the bar one more time for the delivery. His eyes land on a girl down the bar, you’re having an animated conversation with the bartender, sounding so much more excited about being here than he was. Steve couldn’t help but eavesdrop. </p><p>“And you know what Peter, I am certain, for a fact that Yennefer in the series does not love Geralt as much as the Yennefer in the games, I would know, I’ve played through at least four times,” Your lively speech amuses your bartending friend as he leans against the counter, politely engaged in your rambling. When you were drunk enough, your filter only thinned out as everything that came to mind leaked. It was one thing that you enjoyed about being drunk, you could be honest without the embarrassment afterward. </p><p>Steve wants to laugh, hearing someone so drunk they decide to talk about video games. He concluded from your outfit that you definitely were not out to get laid tonight, unlike your friend who was eye-fucking his bodyguard. You wore straight-leg jeans, a graphic t-shirt with an out of state college, a faded zip up hoodie, Birkenstocks with black socks, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say you got your beat-up purse was either a hand me down or from the salvation army. He found it intriguing that someone came out tonight choosing to dress like his grandfather, opposed to their friend that was dressed to kill and already standing between Bucky's legs.</p><p>Peter feels a pair of eyes watching you both, from his peripherals he sees Steve looking in your direction, unsure if that’s a good or bad thing. Peter had worked at this bar for years, the late hours easy to manage with his class load at NYU. He got to know the frequent flyers over the years, Steve is one of them. Peter was well aware of what Steve did for work, seeing the odd exchanges of items and shady people coming to meet him occasionally. Though noticing Steve, Peter couldn't connect why Steve was watching <em> you</em>. </p><p>“Are you evening listening, Peter?” You pout, slamming your hands on the counter. “I asked how classes were going, you know I'm always here to help with homework,” your head bobs as you speak. His attention on you is lost as Steve meets his stare. Peter flinches the blonde smirking at him. </p><p>You hear Elle call your name. She throws you a look over her shoulder, motioning for you to join. Peter’s mouth opens to stop you until Steve shoots him a challenging eyebrow, silencing the young man. </p><p>“Duty calls, Peter,” You down one more shot as your conversation with Peter is cut short, Elle signaling you for back up. Your feet drag you away from your stool, your sandals scraping against the bar floor. “Why hello, sirs, I see you've met my friend, Elle,” you beam at the pair, wrapping your arm around her shoulders. Your face was flush with alcohol and your breath probably smelled of vodka, but what did you care, your drunken state had nothing to lose if these men were to remain complete strangers. Bucky’s mouth opens before Steve raises a hand, cutting him off. </p><p>“Yes, Elle told us about you,” Steve smiled, setting his drink on the counter and crossing his arms. </p><p>Bucky shot Steve a look. Maybe Elle brought you up <em> once</em>, but Bucky didn’t think Steve was even listening to them. He tilted his head, processing why Steve had not let him speak. Elle’s hands on his thighs bring him back to her, the two continue to chat in their own world as you and Steve greet each other. </p><p>Steve knew Bucky and your friend were getting well acquainted, but there was a pull in his stomach telling him to talk to you a bit. He enjoyed <em> something </em> about the joy you emitted when talking to the bartender and how your outfit screamed ‘I’m staying in.’ You were comfortable in your own skin and had nobody to impress tonight, and as hammered as you were, Steve could feel that you were acting without inhibition tonight. </p><p>“Only good things I hope, buddy,” you pat his shoulder as you take the seat to his right. You're fine with the fact that your friend is chatting it up with the brunette, you didn't mind taking company with Mr. Tall &amp; Handsome.</p><p>“You have a name, don’t you?” You ask the stranger, holding out your hand for him to shake. </p><p>“Steve,” He simpers, his large hand almost engulfing yours. Your blush is from the alcohol in your system, you tell yourself. </p><p>“What do you drink?” Steve asks, waving Peter over. The brunette stiffens as he walks towards the two of you. </p><p>“Please, I should be the one buying you a drink, you look stiff as a board, dude,” you laugh, shooing him to put his wallet away. Steve chuckles, alright with you turning him down. “It’s Saturday, whatever’s weighing you down, let it go for tonight, you know?” You elbow his arm. “Petey baby!” You call. Peter nodded at you as he finished with another customer. </p><p>“You know the bartender?” Steve plays dumb. </p><p>“Oh yes, Petey and me go way back,” You sing. Peter tends to you, placing empty glasses in front of you and Steve. “In fact, I remember Peter crying when I would leave because he thought Aunt May was going to adopt me when really I was just babysitting!” You guffaw, laughing as you lean on the bar. </p><p>“What’ll it be?” Peter rolls his eyes. You almost forget your own name as he addresses you, considering how drunk you were. Steve makes a mental note, the syllables sweet on his tongue as he silently practices saying it. </p><p>“I’ll have whatever this guy’s having!” You squeal, leaning against Steve as you point your thumb at him. “Just put it on my tab, Mr. Parker,” You salute in a British accent. Peter didn’t mind so much whenever you were wasted, he was used to it by now. Steve looked like he was enjoying himself, watching you be all over the place. </p><p>“I’ll have a crown royal with ginger,” Steve orders. </p><p>“Same! That sounds yummy,” You smile at Peter, “Put it on my tab, ol’ sport,” You grin. The tightness in his smile goes unnoticed by you as he fixes your drinks. </p><p>“Anyways, our friends are having the best time without us,” You point over Steve’s shoulders. He follows your hand, holding in a laugh as Bucky and Elle make out in a booth to themselves. You wolf whistle as she climbs on his lap. Steve is trying to keep his amusement on the surface and not let his annoyance show, considering Bucky was on his clock right now. </p><p>“I knew my girl was gonna get it tonight,” You cheer from the bar. </p><p>“And what are we to do while they’re obviously busy?” Steve raises an eyebrow, turning back to you. </p><p>You shrug, holding up your drink to toast. “Looks like we gotta keep busy then too, my friend,” You giggle, Steve clinking his glass against yours. </p><p>-----</p><p>The conversation between you and Steve flows like water, smooth, refreshing, and without much resistance. There were zero expectations on your end coming into this, but Steve exceeded them if there had been any. Over the few hours you spent getting to know him, you didn’t think the blonde would be interested in your stories from work, and Steve didn’t think he’d meet someone that appreciated history as much as he did no less in a bar. Steve showed genuine attentiveness to your words, always responsive to a lady that could be herself around him, though you did continue to sip on a drink just to keep the excuse of being tipsy. You were a nice break from the busty dames that only wanted to please him and tell him what they think he wanted to hear. He could tell from a mile away if a woman was after his body or his money and he sensed neither with you. </p><p>You’re in the middle of telling a joke when a familiar figure enters Steve’s peripherals. The man is approaching you both, you do not notice and continue talking as Steve subtly taps his thigh, signaling his men around the bar to close in on the visitor.  </p><p>Bucky’s focus flits from Elle for a split-second, from his booth he notices Steve not bothering to get up as Tony is finally here. Bucky knew that Tony was obscenely late, but what was Steve doing? Bucky looked curiously at his boss, he still had not moved from his seat. Bucky had never seen a woman stop Steve from finishing a deal, even more so, he was shocked Steve wasn't pissed off at how late the package was. Bucky gets up from his booth, giving Elle a kiss on the cheek as he walks over to the group of men. </p><p>“Took you long enough, Stark,” Bucky crossed his arms, standing in front of Tony. He eyes the envelope under Tony’s arm, but the man tucks it further into his pit. “Your lucky boss is in a good mood,” Bucky frowns at him. </p><p>“I thought Rogers wanted this delivered personally,” Tony looks over Bucky’s shoulder, his gaze landing on you. You were making Steve laugh, something that Tony had never seen before. The blonde usually stood so guarded and went straight to business, but anyone watching you could see you were enjoying each other’s company. </p><p>“Good thing I’m a personal friend, huh?” Bucky snatches the envelope from under Tony, looking in the package to make sure the needed contents were in it. </p><p>“Alright, you’re good. I’ll let Steve know you stopped by,” Bucky turns away, not bothering to look over his shoulder. Tony’s irritation is clear on his face as he is escorted out. He couldn’t believe that Rogers was so preoccupied that he didn’t even bother to acknowledge the Stark. Tony made a note to remember that later. </p><p>Bucky walked back to his booth with Elle, the blonde playing with her phone. “So doll, are we doing this again? Sweet girls like you should be home at this hour.” Bucky sits back down next to her, putting her legs in his lap. She smiles sweetly at him, throwing her hair over her shoulder. </p><p>“I would love to, Bucky,” Elle smiles sweetly, throwing her hair over her shoulder. She pulls out her phone and hands it to him. “Do you think they’re getting along over there?” Elle knows the answer to her question, but Bucky is closer to Steve more than anyone. He looks up from the phone, glancing at his friend and you. </p><p>“You know, Steve is a guy that knows what he’s doing, but I can tell you that he’s never met anyone like your friend from what I can see,” Bucky winks at Elle, handing her back her phone. Elle kisses Bucky on the cheek, wishing him good night as she gets up from the booth. Her hand slips from his as she pulls away, the longing in Bucky’s eyes clearer than a day. The look makes her knees wobble but she walks over to you successfully. </p><p>“You ready to go?” Elle appears at your side, her arm around your shoulder. You look at your watch and your eyes go wide, it is way into the night and you rather not be ruined for staying out any longer. </p><p>“Wowzas, will you look at the time,” You scratch the back of your head, laughing as you stand up from your chair. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Steve,” You shake the man’s hand, enjoying the feeling the second time around of his large palm against yours. “You were an absolute treat to talk to, and I hope you have a great night,” your eyes twinkle as you look at him. </p><p>Steve stares up at you, his eyes feel intrusive staring into yours as if he’s asking a silent question that you should know the answer to. “Yes, it was nice meeting you,” Steve says your name out loud for the first time. The sound caresses your insides, heat rushing to your face as his voice sticks to your subconscious. You wish he’d say your name again, but that would be weird to ask out loud. </p><p>“Can we see each other again?” Steve was shocked at the hope in his voice, as were you. Steve felt you were an absolute delight to talk to, and he hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time until tonight. Your authenticity sparked something in him and he wanted to keep it alight. </p><p>The delay in your response did not go unnoticed, though you pull your phone out of your purse, handing it to Steve. You hesitated naturally, unused to someone as handsome as Steve asking your permission to get to know you. You have nothing to lose form tonight, why not take the bait? </p><p>“Maybe we can hang out sometime,” Your smile is soft as you process what is happening. A beautiful, blonde adonis was asking for your number - not Elle’s, but <em> yours </em>.</p><p>Steve grinned from ear to ear, putting his contact information in the small device. He handed it back to you. “I texted myself,” You see his last name is Rogers, immediately you test out the name next to yours in your still drunk head. You fix the contact and add a nickname, beaming at him as you hit save. Steve reminded you of a golden retriever, his beautiful blonde locks and eyes full of life reminding your intoxicated mind of your favorite breed. </p><p>“Well, have a good night, Captain Rogers, and stay safe,” You give a mock salute. Steve chuckles, saluting right back at you. “Tell your friend he better treat Elle well, or he’s gonna get a-knockin' on his door,” You jokingly wave your fist as you and Elle head towards the entrance. You give one last wave at Steve, the blonde smiling as he waves back. </p><p>Bucky walks over to him, patting his shoulder. “Steve,” Bucky watches you and Elle leave through the front, his curious gaze on your back. Bucky, in all the years of knowing Steve, had never seen him so enamored with a girl. He took a second glance at all the beautiful women that had thrown themselves at him, but you practically had him eating out of your hand. What made you special to his best friend? “Just what did you and her talk about?” </p><p>“Everything, Buck.” Steve smiled at his friend. He checked his phone and was all teeth, seeing your phone number in his phone. Steve looked forward to getting to know sober- you just as much as drunk-you.</p><p>You and Elle climbed into your shared Uber, your heart still hammering in your chest. Your hands were shaking as you stared at your phone, the name “golden retriever” staring back at you. </p><p>“Dude, Bucky’s friend was an absolute stallion,” Elle trails her tongue over her teeth. You nudge her with your elbow, the two of you buckle your seatbelts. “I’m so proud of you,” She sniffles. Her comment makes you snort. You put your phone back in your purse, the small trophy making you tingle all the way home. </p><p>What you didn't realize was that tonight was going to be one of many firsts for you and Steve.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You wake up to a pleasant surprise.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your eyes are difficult to open, sealed with a crust. You remember hitting the mattress and had only bothered to take off your pants, somehow managing to plug in your phone. Last night hit you like a train as soon as you came home, you recall you and Elle stumbling all the way up the stairs to your apartment. A single ping from your phone elicited a groan, making you cover your head with a pillow. Your hangover was a fucking banger, with any little noise you might as well have slammed your head with a garbage can lid.</p><p>You rubbed the hell out of your eyes, the residue wanting to cling to your eyelashes. You looked at your phone to see who wanted to text you at- God, it was only ten in the morning, didn't you get home at three? “What the hell…” You sit up, your voice deep from fatigue. Your vision focused on the contact name, unsure of who ‘golden retriever’ was to you. </p><p><em> I hope you made it home safe. </em> The message read. Your eyes close, your head mildly spinning, squinting as you search your blurry memory for who this could be. You almost screech, all recollection of last night's events coming back to you. Blonde, nice smile, easy on the eyes, all focused on you. You couldn't believe it, you had to have a witness testimony. You know Elle was probably passed out in the guest room of your apartment since it’s always easier to just crash together after a night out. </p><p>“Elle!” You nearly trip as you struggle to put some sweatpants on, almost screaming as you run out of your room. You're surprised to find your friend in your kitchen, already pouring herself a bowl of cereal as she looks at her phone. “Oh, thank God you're awake,” you walk over to her, grabbing her shoulders. </p><p>“Why, what's going on?” Her lip curls upward, confused by your suddenness. You show her your phone, gauging her reaction as you scroll through. Giving you a Cheshire-like grin, she walks away, sitting at your dining room table. </p><p>“Who’s Steve Rogers?” Your question has her blinking at you, befuddled by such an ask. She busts out laughing, slamming the table as she holds back humourous tears. </p><p>“I can't believe you're asking me that question!” Elle nearly cries. “You don't remember Bucky and Steve?” She manages to say with a mouthful of breakfast, disbelieving that you could forget someone like Steve so quickly. </p><p>“No, no, I remember them <em> quite </em> well,” you're close to panicking, unsure of how to respond to Steve's message. You feel obligated to message him back now, damn those read receipts. “I’m just… I can't believe I have that guy's number, I mean did you <em> see </em> him?” Steve was completely out of your league, you couldn't help but think to yourself from what you could remember. </p><p>“Nah. I was too busy looking at his friend,” Elle sticks her tongue out, giving a lewd look. Texting Bucky, Elle looked back down at her phone. You loved Elle for her honesty, but if you hadn't been the fun encouraging drunk you were, last night you would have absconded her for shoving her tongue down a stranger's throat. </p><p>“Blegh, you're disgusting, you just met him,” you frown, digging through your kitchen for oatmeal. You also needed to find Aleve and a glass of water, needing to get rid of this headache fast.</p><p>“Hey, just because I'm honest about how I feel doesn't mean you don't feel the same way.” She shrugs. “Steve is totally your type and you know it,” Elle tuts at you. Your glare at her as you place your oatmeal in the microwave. </p><p>“Steve is <em> totally </em> my type, but am I his? I was dressed as if I lived at Happy Oaks Senior Living last night.” You snort. “I did <em> not </em> expect to run into Hercules in human form and grab his phone number, that's usually your deal,” You shook your head, trying to rummage through your memory of what you even discussed with the blonde. Was there something you said that he liked? Or were you just a walking comedy show, considering your sandals and socks were out of place in the bar. </p><p>“First of all, give yourself more credit. Secondly, you're overthinking it,” Elle sighs your name. She disliked the doubt you were planting and she was <em> not </em> going to let you ruin this for yourself. “Bucky said Steve likes you, and they've been friends since they were in diapers.” Elle waves her spoon at you. </p><p>You look down at your phone again, opening the chat with Steve. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth, your jaw moving back and forth like a nervous tick. Before you can start replying, another message is received from him. <em> Are you awake?  </em></p><p>You text him back too quickly. <em> Yes, I am awake. How are you? </em></p><p>Immediately your phone rings, your antsiness causing you to almost drop it. “Elle! Elle, he's calling!” You're visibly panicking, your friend continuing to nonchalantly finish her bowl. You hurried to take a few pills and wash it down with water. </p><p>“Just pick it up, stop being weird! Just accept that he might like you,” she waves you off. You huff at her as you slide the answer call button, moving the device close to your ear. </p><p>“H-hello?” Your voice wavers, nerves driving your side of the call. </p><p>“Why good morning, sunshine,” You hear a deep chuckle, the nickname making your ears burn. “Did you get home safe? I thought I would call to check on you ladies,” Steve’s voice reminded you of honey, the way he sounded genuinely concerned for you. He sat reclined in his office chair, his feet up on his desk. Steve had been waiting all morning for an appropriate time to text you, and once you messaged him back he was in the middle of looking at paperwork when he decided to call you. It was early enough in the morning, especially when he received confirmation that you were awake. </p><p>“Wow, sunshine, huh? Didn't realize you listened to Lil’ Flip,” You can't help but giggle. The joke was lame though you played it off, not wanting to admit the nickname made your stomach flutter. “Elle and I got home safe, yeah. She stayed at my place, I think she's been texting your friend all morning,” you whisper, looking at her as she is still glued to her phone. Steve chuckles, the sound so much richer now that you’re sober. </p><p>“Do you remember much from last night?” You can hear the mischief in his voice through the phone.</p><p>“I remember enough, I was pretty gone, to say the least.” You continue to eat your oatmeal. “I <em> definitely </em> remember you talking about how to this day you still take Claritin since you had really bad allergies as a kid- oh my God, I think I even offered you some,” You chuckle at the memory of your conversation, recalling pulling the bottle straight from your purse. God, you were a dork. </p><p>Steve’s chest warmed, knowing that even in the right state of mind he could make you laugh. “Wow. You have a great memory, what else do you remember?” </p><p>“I also remember trying to convince you, the history buff, that <em> Inglourious Basterds </em> was a cinematic masterpiece, and that you couldn't get over that there was a fictional movie leading to the downfall of Hitler,” You snicker. “You're not a movie person, are you?” you happen to look over at Elle, the wretched blonde taking a video of you. “Hey! Don't send that to your new boyfriend,” Doing a poor job of covering your microphone, you yell at her, pulling your phone away from your face. You hear a faint laugh on Steve's end, groaning as you bring the device back to your ear. </p><p> “Enough about what I remember, what do <em> you </em> remember, Steve?” You ask, smirking to yourself. Never in a million years did you expect to be bantering with such a beautiful specimen. Your teenage self would be so proud of you now. </p><p>“Well, I know I remember asking a girl if we could stay in touch, was wondering if you could help me with that memory?” Steve bites his lip, closing his eyes. He remembers how stunned you looked when he asked to see you again. A few years had passed since he last spoke to a woman and not been expected to ask for their number. You were so prepared to leave that bar and not see him again, he could tell, but Steve wasn’t going to have that. </p><p>You giggle at the question. “I think she remembers enough to pick up the phone, wouldn't you agree?” </p><p>“I agree, I’d also like to know if she has any plans this week, perhaps a nice dinner.” Steve’s heart picks up just a bit, he’s not used to the nerves that come with asking someone out. He had no reason to think you’d say no, but the way you talked to him like he was just a normal guy and not some bank account you were trying to dive into, you made him feel like you were seeing him for who he’s always been - a kid from Brooklyn. </p><p>“You know, I really want to, but this week doesn’t work well for me,” You frown as you answer him. You barely hear a sigh on the other end. He’s not taking this as rejection, is he? “I work switch shifts, so this week is when I work nights and evenings,” Your words are rushed, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. “But if you’re an early bird, I would be down for breakfast on Friday.” Elle is fist-pumping for you from the table, you turn around so you don’t laugh from looking at her. </p><p>Steve likes your way of thinking. He knew you’d probably be tired by that time working a full night, but if that was the soonest he could see you next, he was eager. “Breakfast it is. Do you work for the weekend, too?”</p><p>“Nope, my calendar is clear as glass. Why any other things you’d like to inconvenience me with?” Your joke is taken well, Steve laughing heartily. You wish you could record his laugh, maybe you will the next time you’re prepared for a phone call. </p><p>“Who knows. Maybe just keep it open, we’ll see what happens.” He shrugs. Wow, had Steve been out of the game for a while? He doesn’t remember the last time he was able to put so little effort into talking to a woman. His door creaks just the slightest, Bucky poking his head in. </p><p>“Hey Steve, we got a-” Before Bucky can finish, a vintage baseball barely misses his head, Steve frustrated at being distracted while talking to you. </p><p>“Later, Buck,” Steve shoes his best friend out of his office. </p><p>“Geez, all you could have said was get out!” Bucky throws his hands in the air, slamming the door behind him. </p><p>You hear the faint exchange from your end, giggling. “Oh, you flatter me, Rogers, you can just say you want me all to yourself.” You shoot your shot, throat tight with nerves yet again. It felt safe to be a little bold with Steve. You wanted to see how far this could stretch you. </p><p>You don’t realize how coy you sounded, causing Steve to blush. He’s surprised by your banter and is very much welcoming it. “As I said, we’ll see what happens.” His voice is an octave deeper, retaining its playfulness with a hint of something deeper. </p><p>You’re not sure if you want to decipher that layer just yet, wanting to keep the conversation and atmosphere light for now. “Let me know where to meet you and I’ll be there.” You smile.</p><p>“Okay.” He’s reluctant to hang up, but he doesn’t want to keep you any further. “Talk to you later,” The way he enunciates your name sends a warm wave through your stomach. </p><p>“Yes. Bye, Steve.” Your face is on fire as you hang up, your heart hammering in your ears. Elle’s jaw is dropped as she stares at you from the dining room, just as stunned as you are for carrying on the conversation so well. You were going to see Steve Rogers again, and he enjoyed talking to sober you. “I can’t believe it, Elle.” You stare at your friend, dumfounded. </p><p>“I know I only heard half of that conversation, but… I think you got the juice,” Elle winks at you, sticking her tongue out. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeeeeee I am so excited as to where things head for these two right now :)</p><p>I'm satisfied with this chapter enough and where my outline is going with this, I'll probably wait another week so I can give myself time for other works.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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